


Breadcrumbs Fading in the Wind

by wonderfulchaos



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Actual Murder, Gen, Implied Kidnapping, but mostly just vague and implied stuff going on, implied attempted murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9815609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfulchaos/pseuds/wonderfulchaos
Summary: Into the white woods and back - yet is there really a home waiting for them in a house so empty?





	

**Author's Note:**

> _“Nibble, nibble, gnaw; who is nibbling at my little house?”_  
>  \- Hansel and Gretel

i.

Once upon a time, there were two brothers that would venture into the woods beside their house at every given opportunity. They would bring white pebbles and mark the path to guide them home, and the eldest would always hold his little brother’s hand tight. It was on one adventure into the woods that the little brother asked, “Do we really have to go back home?”

The older brother laughed and squeezed the hand he held, telling him everything was going to be all right. Even if he didn’t believe it, he would put on a brave front for this person. Even if he wondered the same thing, he would tell a little white lie. “Papa and Mama would miss us if we didn’t go back home.”

Back and forth, coming and going, they would mender through the forest of white birch. Together, but always with a place to return home.

It wasn’t until his brother fell ill that the eldest began to realize how fragile there bond was, how easily it could be shattered. It had started from nothing and blossomed into a beautiful shining something in his life. He didn’t want to let it go.

As the sun began to set on the horizon, as shadows crept out from the treeline to encroach on the garden, he sat and dwelled on how to fix what needed fixing. It was impossible, he theorized, to make his little brother well. A sickly youth wouldn’t outgrow that, and nor did he expect him to - no, what needed changing was the world they lived in. What needed to be fixed was the thing making his little brother unwell.

Something settled on his shoulder, feather light and oh so delicate, a wisp of pale color and darkness combined. He briefly cast a glance toward the butterfly that nuzzled against his neck, provoking an instinctive urge to brush it aside, a trace of fear running up his spine despite knowing better. Instead, he stayed still and waited.

When his gaze drifted back to the roses in the garden, the butterfly fluttered away, a man taking its place in front of him with a few buttons already undone from his shirt. “Should I show a little more skin to cheer you up?”

Scoffing, the boy told him, “No thanks,” and then sighed. “What do you want, Lily?”

“Must I want something to speak with you?” inquired Lily, tilting his head to one side, shirt slipping down his shoulder regardless of what was said.

The boy considered it for a moment and then shrugged. “I suppose not, but that’s not the case, is it? What is it?”

For a moment, Lily appeared visibly disappointed in him. It came and went like everything else in life as Lily’s expression blanked to reveal nothing but the lingering curl of a frown. “Yes, I did have something to ask of you. Though it’s more of a warning.” Pointing off to an addition to the manor, where a light was still on, Lily reminded him, “You shouldn’t go too far into the woods with him, you know. He’s sick now because -”

“I know,” bit out the boy, “I know it’s my fault. Misono’s sick because of me. If that’s all you came to tell me, leave me be.” Waving a dismissive hand, he returned his attention back to the shadows deepening in the garden.

“No,” Lily corrected, “that’s not all.” Taking a seat on the bench beside the boy, he placed a hand on the boy’s arm and tried comforting with, “Misono will get better, you don’t have to worry so much.”

“Tch,” clicking his tongue, the boy wondered, “and what makes you think that’s what is bothering me?”

The grip on his arm turned firmer as Lily questioned, “It’s not?”

Wrenching his arm free, he informed the shape-shifter that, “That isn’t any of your business.”

“Mikuni,” warned Lily, “if this has something to do with Misono -”

“No worries,” Mikuni promised with a smile, “I’ll take care of everything.”

ii.

If there was one thing Mikuni specialized in, it was chess. If asked why, he would tell the person ‘what better way for a bored mind to keep itself entertained?’, but that wasn’t really it. If asked by someone who cared, he would tell them 'what else is there but strategy to get what you want?’ In perspective, it was a matter of obtaining the end result in the least noticeable way. There were people who preferred a more heavy-handed approach and stood in the way of more subtle methods, but Mikuni liked to think he was good at getting around difficulties like that.

“Checkmate,” he told his tutor, knocking over his king with a flick of his finger, “you got me.”

The old man didn’t look happy to hear that, his fingers tapping at his chin as he observed the board. “You weren’t even trying,” he admonished. “What were you thinking?”

Blinking innocently up the man, he folded his hands in front of him and leaned forward against the table, whispering, “My mind was elsewhere, you’ll have to forgive me.”

Humming in thought, the old man changed tactics and wondered, “How’s that kid brother of yours doing?”

Blood left his fingers, turning them a fleeting white, as Mikuni pressed down on the table, jolting into a standing position. “Oh my, I must be going. I have studying that won’t study itself.”

Snickering, the old man slouched down in his seat, hands in his pockets as he informed him, “You’re an open book. Be careful you don’t get burnt. A moth to a flame, you are, but how many times can you get close to it before going up in flames?”

“I’ll let you know,” dismissed Mikuni, shutting the door behind with more force than necessary.

iii.

“One. Two. Three,” Mikuni counted as he flicked pebbles behind him, each one clattering to the floor with a sharp thud that rang out in the empty room. “Four, five, six~” he sang, his steps bringing him closer to the huddled figure on the floor. “Hey you,” he finally called, holding out his hand, “I heard you like blood. Want a taste?”

The figure lifted its head, long dark hair obscuring a pale face that probably hadn’t seen sunlight in decades. Funny, the thought of a vampire ever going out in the sun. With a hoarse, barely audible voice, the figure managed to tell him, “Leave.”

“Is that a no?” mused Mikuni. “Ah, and here I thought you would have been parched by now. I mean, Mother hardly lets you have any … does she?” He knew he had hit gold as soon as the blood red eyes fixed on him intently, searching. “I can change that,” Mikuni promised. “Trust me.” He took out a knife from where he had slipped it under his shirt, under his belt, hidden from prying eyes. Then he sliced the back of his arm and moved closer, asking again, “Want a taste?”

The vampire was upon in him seconds, lapping up the blood. When it regained its senses, it regarded him with distrust, demanding to know, “Why?” Still holding on to the hurt arm and squeezing out every last drop, like any good predator.

“Because I need help,” he admitted, “and you’re the best bet I’m ever going to make.”

“Shallow words,” said the vampire. “I will not help.” Its tongue trailed over the wound one last time, scrapping away any chance of the blood clotting. “Foolish,” reprimanded the predator to its prey, voice a whisper that echoed loudly in their locked away room, “do you think I will not kill you?”

“You won’t,” Mikuni let slip another white lie, “you can’t. You need me.”

The vampire flickered red eyes back up to the face of a youth that wanted the last say, and then averted his gaze. “I don’t need -”

“You do,” insisted the boy, “you do need me. I’m going to make it so.”

iv.

The token item his mother had given to the vampire clattered to the floor, the name she had given the vampire disappearing alongside any chance of it being repaired. Mikuni ensured it by smashing it under foot, his boot grinding it further into dust. “Jeje,” he called, “here.” He held out his arm, a bite mark still a fresh, vibrant red. Even if the line left behind by the knife had healed, scabbed, begun to fade. “You want more, don’t you? No,” he corrected, “you _need_ more.”

Within seconds, the vampire was by his side, his mother abandoned. There was pain in his arm, a familiar pain, and he threw his head back and laughed, a coiling darkness wrapping around his wrist as he thought, _Give me the strength to fix only what I can fix._ He held a noose in his hands, and half wondered if it was meant to go around his own neck. Then he took out the doll he always kept with him, looked it over, and decided, “We’ll fix this together, huh, Abel?”

“Jeje,” he instructed as soon as the vampire was done drinking, “hold down Mother.”

Obeying, the vampire held her arms behind her back, as her mad eyes that reflected Mikuni in them glared daggers. “You’ll regret this!” she screamed. “That - that thing you call a brother isn’t worth -”

He hung the noose around her neck and pulled the slack into something more restricting. “Sorry, what was that?”

“You’ll regret this,” she choked. “And you … forming … a contract.”

He strangled his own mother with a make-shift Lead and the burning feeling that he had made a terrible mistake.

v.

Misono got better. There were no sudden bouts of hospitalization, nor did he feel as tired or ill all the time. It spoke for itself that the problem was fixed, but the looks his Father gave to the oldest son that should have been his heir were almost as ill-looking as Misono had been. Fear laden and worried in a different regard. Mikuni had come to the conclusion that there was only one thing left to do.

“Hey, little bro?” he asked one day, lounging against the doorway to his little brother’s room.

Misono looked up sleepily from the book he was reading in bed. “It’s late, Mikuni … what is it?”

“Want to go for a walk?”

“It’s almost bedtime,” reminded Misono on a yawn. “Lily won’t like it.”

Mikuni placed a finger to his lips. “Then it’ll be our little secret. Don’t tell Lily on me. I’ll be scolded for sure!” With an amiable grin and an outstretched hand, Mikuni repeated, “Won’t you go for a walk with me, little bro?”

“Okay,” Misono gave in, smiling back. “Where are we going?”

“To the woods,” decided Mikuni, “where we might just find our own house made of candy.”

“Candy?” questioned Misono, eyes automatically lighting up the prospect. “You can make houses out of that?”

“Candy and cookies, all kinds of sweets.” Mikuni tilted his head. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Getting out of bed, the little brother took his big brother’s hand. He’d follow him anywhere and back, as long as it led them home.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, Lily would have to find them or things would go horribly for Misono. (But, ya know - like mother, like son.)


End file.
